


Tick Tock Goes The Clock

by LaTessitrice



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7031278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaTessitrice/pseuds/LaTessitrice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Thing is,” Clint continues, “his hundredth birthday is coming up soon. We think his biological clock has started ticking, but he’s taking it out on us instead, and we can’t handle anymore of it.”</p>
<p>Steve is broody, and the Avengers think Darcy is the solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick Tock Goes The Clock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pollydoodles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollydoodles/gifts).



> This idea comes from this post: http://pollydoodles.tumblr.com/post/144541355823/cabloom-spitandvinegar-ok-hold-up-for-one and I am using it with kind permission of pollydoodles.

“I think Cap just tried to spit-polish my face!”

Darcy glances up to find Peter Parker wiping at his cheek, where there’s a smudge of something--mud, she hopes.

“Well, have you tried washing it?” she replies. “And wrong lab. Tony’s ‘shop is that way.” She pokes her thumb over her shoulder, back through the door Peter had entered.

“Nuh-uh. I’m not going back out there. He kept trying to ask me about my homework and how many vegetables I’m eating.”

Darcy sighs and finishes the sentence she’s typing. “Fine, I’ll take you the long route.” Technically, as Senior Liaison for the laboratories in the Avengers’ facility, it is part of her job, and she can’t really blame Peter for not wanting to venture near Cap again. Steve seems to revert to Dad mode around the boy, but she thinks it might be because Peter is  _ that _ young and shines like a new penny.

It’s not that he’s naive per se, she decides as she leads him through the rear door of Jane’s lab, and he’s definitely seen plenty of action, but somehow he maintains that wide-eyed wonder. It’s a rarity among the crew at the facility, and she suspects that Steve is reacting to that, trying to nurture and preserve it before it inevitably gets squashed out of Peter by the realities of life.

“Tony, I found one of your strays,” she yells as they enter the workshop, over the sound of what she thinks is Judas Priest. Tony doesn’t react, and Friday ignores her command to lower the music, meaning Tony has already programmed the AI to disregard any such request. “Okay, kid, stay here and wait for him to notice. Don’t touch anything. Don’t go wandering off. Definitely don’t do anything Dum-E thinks is a good idea.”

So she’s absolved of any responsibility for the ruckus that occurs five minutes later, shortly followed by Peter whining “stop poking me, Cap, I’m fine, it’s just a scratch, I can walk…”

* * *

“Darcy!” Thor yells in greeting, and she turns to find him strolling past her desk with a bag of carrot sticks in one hand. “Would you like one?” Although she’s more distracted by what’s in his other hand.

“Is that a lunchbox?” she asks. The question is redundant, given that it’s exactly what the pink box is, unless Thor has repurposed it. Given he’s munching on a grape, she doubts it.

“Aye. After Wanda took a turn during our last escapade, the good Captain was worried about her energy levels when we are in battle. This time he arranged for an array of portable snacks. Look!” He opens the box to show a little bag of grapes and a yoghurt. “But Wanda decreed that her mental fortitude was not linked to her appetite, and allowed me to relieve her of them.” 

He finishes with a toothy grin, clipping the box shut again, and Darcy bites her lip to stop herself laughing at Cap bringing a packed lunch along for the Scarlet Witch. “That’s nice of him. I’m sure she’ll always be willing to share with you.”

She pats him on the arm and watches him leave, wondering if there’s any footage of Wanda’s face when Steve handed over the lunchbox.

* * *

“Is everybody wearing their seatbelts?” Steve asks, glancing around to check that everyone in the SUV is, in fact, buckled in. Darcy notices that his gaze almost skips past her, rather than skimming down her body to the bottom of the belt like he has for everyone else. She’s not sure what to make of that, since she’s probably the most breakable of the people in the vehicle.

“Yes,” Wanda, Clint and Sam chime back, all sounding very,  _ very _ done.

“Really?” Bucky says instead. He’s wedged in beside Darcy and tapping his fingers impatiently on his thigh. 

“Safety is very important,” Steve replies.

“I’ll remind you of that next time you throw yourself out of the Quinjet,” Bucky grumbles. He slips Darcy a conspiratorial look and opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly the radio is on loud enough to rattle Darcy’s teeth, Steve’s hand on the dial. She glances up, startled, and meets his gaze in the rearview mirror, before it shifts furtively away.

Whatever Bucky wanted to say is forgotten by the next time they speak.

* * *

“Friday, what happened to the coffee maker?” Darcy asks as she enters the kitchen, to find a freshly blank space on the counter.

“Captain Rogers determined the residents are consuming too much caffeine and requested it be removed.”

“Did you warn him there are three assassins in this facility and they will all actively try to kill him for this decision?”

“Affirmative.”

“Friday, please arrange for the coffee machine to be reinstalled as a priority.”

“Captain Rogers has ordered me not to do that if anybody requests it. He has instructed me to tell anyone requesting caffeine that the tap water is filtered and as good as spring water.”

Darcy rubs her hand over her face. The only good thing about this situation is she’s the first one into the kitchen this morning, and the first one to notice the machine is gone, so Steve is probably still alive. “What did you do with the old machine?”

“It’s awaiting scrappage in the recycling room.”

“Great. Can you get Dum-E to fetch my tools and a cart big enough to fit the machine on? Oh, and don’t let anyone into the kitchen until I’m back.” She’s going to reinstall the thing herself and save Steve’s life in the process.

* * *

It’s not often that Laura Barton visits the facility, and she’s only here today because it’s Clint’s birthday. The older kids are with her mother, but little Nathaniel is still breastfeeding, so she’s brought him along. 

Darcy’s not sure what the plan is for him during the big team dinner--in fact, she’s got a suspicion she’s going to end up babysitting--but her worries are dispelled as soon as Steve spots the little man in his baby carrier.

“May I?” he asks Laura, but he’s scooped the baby up and is pulling faces at him before his mother can answer, though Darcy gets the impression Laura’s grateful for the break.

Steve spends most of dinner with Nathaniel dangled on his knee, while Nat sits with a murderous pout on her face.

“It was my turn for cuddles,” she mutters to Darcy. “I never get to hold the baby.”

Later on, while people are mingling in the huge living room, Sam corners her. “Don’t let Steve out of your sight with that child,” he says. “We do not need an Amber Alert involving Hawkeye’s kid and Captain America.”

Darcy’s left wondering what it’s got to do with her.

* * *

“You know it’s not too late to start thinking about your future.”

Darcy looks up at the sound of Steve’s voice. He’s wandered into the kitchen with a slightly bewildered Clint. Steve’s footsteps falter when he sees Darcy, and as ever, he only manages a tight nod in her direction instead of actual words. Instead, he keeps talking to Scott.

“What you’re doing right now is great, but it won’t last forever. Have you thought about college? You’ve obviously got the aptitude for something in the STEM field. Or you could join us here permanently--”

“Thanks for the life advice,” Scott cuts in. “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but I think when you take the time you were frozen out of the equation, I may actually be older than you.”

Steve looks slightly crestfallen at Scott’s brush-off, and Darcy feels obliged to step in.

“Yeah, but didn’t you spend most of that extra time in prison?” she points out, depositing her empty cereal bowl in the sink. “Maybe you could learn something from someone who, I don’t know, didn’t go to prison?”

Scott narrows his eyes at her. “Who are you?”

Steve’s distracted by the bowl. “Is that all you’re having for dinner?”

* * *

“Really, Steve, I am perfectly fine.” Wanda’s voice drifts in from beyond the door to the lab, and a moment later the girl herself appears. She shuts the door and leans against it, huffing out a frustrated sigh.

Darcy raises an eyebrow at her. “What brings you to our humble domain?”

Wanda crosses the room and drags an empty chair over to Darcy’s desk. “Peace and quiet. This is the only place Steve will not follow me. I sneezed and he is following me around with a--what-do-you-call-it?” She made a gesture, and Darcy saw it in her mind’s eye. She wasn’t sure if it was intentional on Wanda’s part or not, but it  _ was  _ helpful.

“A thermometer.”

Wanda snaps her fingers. “Yes. And I sneezed because there was dust, not because I am ill! So I came where he will not go.”

Darcy frowns. “Why would he not come in here? I know sometimes things explode, but it is only  _ sometimes _ , it’s not a regular thing.”

Wanda is smiling at her like she’s simple. “So blind to something so obvious.”

“Everything’s obvious when you can go rummaging around in people’s thoughts.”

“This, I do not need superhuman ability to know. It is plain as day. Your gaze lingers on him, anyone can see that.”

Darcy shrugs. She’s not embarrassed by that. It’d be hard not to stare at Steve, not when he walks around the facility in too-small clothes, one wrong movement away from bursting out of his t-shirt. “If the view’s that good, you might as well enjoy it.”

“And that is all?”

“That’s all. I decided there’s no point harboring a crush on a guy who never talks to me.”

“A-ha!” Wanda leans back in the chair like some kind of answer has been revealed, but Darcy is as puzzled as ever.

There’s a rustle above their heads, a thump, and then Clint is descending from one of the ceiling tiles. “Oh good, are we doing this now?”

Wanda nods, leaving Darcy to say “What? What are you doing?” 

They don’t answer, and in under a minute, they’re joined by Natasha, and Sam. Natasha straddles a chair backwards, Clint perches on the edge of desk, while Sam leans against the wall with his arms folded.

“Is this some kind of intervention?” Darcy asks. “Because I fixed the coffee machine for you guys, not my own benefit. I drink a perfectly reasonable amount of the stuff.”

Natasha grimaces. “There was a problem with the coffee machine?” 

“...Never mind.”

“We’re here to ask you to do the team a solid--” begins Sam.

“--And get knocked up,” Clint finishes.

Darcy turns the words over in her head for a few seconds, wondering if they’re about to start making sense, before she looks to Natasha. She usually makes the most sense.

“Huh?”

“It’s true. We need you to get pregnant.”

“ _ What? _ Why?”

“Steve is driving us all bananas,” says Clint. “He’s been clucky for months and it’s not getting any better.”

“Clucky?” Wanda whispers to Natasha.

“Broody,” she replies.

“Thing is,” Clint continues, “his hundredth birthday is coming up soon. We think his biological clock has started ticking, but he’s taking it out on us instead, and we can’t handle anymore of it.”

“Yes, I’d noticed, but what has this got to do with me?”

“You are the ideal candidate,” Wanda says, “Because Steve would like to have a baby with you.”

“Are you kidding me? You told me five minutes ago that he doesn’t want to be in the same room as me!”

“Because he’s sweet on you,” Natasha says. “He can’t talk to you.”

“So he just talks  _ about _ you,” says Sam. “Constantly. Like he thinks he’s being subtle.”

“And he daydreams about you,” Wanda confirms. “A lot. It needs to stop. There are images I do not need in my head.”

“Okay, but can we back up for a minute here? Because my hypothetically being interested in him and his hypothetically being interested in me does not mean we should have a baby.”

Natasha narrows her eyes. “Not immediately. But if he knows there will be a baby sooner rather than later, he will ease off.”

Darcy resists the urge to bang her head against her desk. “Or you could talk to him and ask him to back off?”

“This way we kill two birds with one stone,” says Wanda. “Steve is less miserable  _ and _ has somewhere to channel his energies. He has a lot of ideas on how to do that. I think you would enjoy them.”

Darcy gives in and hides her face behind her hands. “Oh my god. This conversation is real. This is really happening.”

“Make good choices,” Natasha warns her as she rises. “Or we will be forced to take drastic measures.”

“Like what?” Darcy calls after her.

“Hey, we didn’t discuss anything about that--” Sam says as he follows Natasha out of the room.

Darcy is left alone with her thoughts. Her many bewildered, tangled thoughts, which are just about forming into one conclusion--she should find Steve and talk to him--when the door to the lab opens once more. 

This time Bucky comes striding in, with a bundle over his shoulder. A large, wriggling, human bundle, which he drops at Darcy’s feet.

“He was trying to make me eat peas,” is the sole explanation. “Told him to get you in the family way.” Then Bucky is gone, leaving her staring at the mortified face of Steve Rogers.

Steve opens his mouth, stammers out a few noises which might have been attempts at words, then closes it again with a resounding thunk. Instead, he sits up, slowly rising to his knees, never losing eye contact with Darcy as he moves, like she’s an animal he’s afraid will strike if he’s not looking.

It’s fine. She’s not really sure what to say to him either. 

Maybe words will only get in the way.

When he’s kneeling, face level with hers, she grabs the front of his t-shirt and pulls him towards her. She has a glimpse of wide eyes before she lets her own flutter shut, catching his mouth with her own.

He’s hesitant for all of two seconds, before he’s putting all of that  _ thought _ Wanda hinted at in the kiss. It’s a lengthy exploration, nipping and tasting and lips barely skimming together, and when he pulls away she’s exhilarated.

“Does that help?” she asks, and he’s so close they’re still sharing breath. He’s nestled between her knees, and her arms are looped around his shoulders.

“That was quite the icebreaker,” he replies with a nod. “But--I think it took some of the pressure off.”

“Only some of it,” she says, with a naughty smile, and when he blinks at her, she knows he’s not sure whether to grin back. He kisses her again instead, and she curls her fingers into his hair, mussing it up. 

Eventually, somehow, they end up with him in the chair and her across his lap, while he explores her neck with his mouth. It’s a much better afternoon than she was expecting to have.

“Can I take you to dinner?” he asks, and his voice is low, a little rough. She likes it.

“Are you going to do all that chivalrous stuff like hold the door open and pull out my chair?”

He hesitates. “Only if you want me to.”

“I want.” She presses a quick peck to his mouth again. “Just to make it clear, I am not getting knocked up anytime soon. Superhero or not, I think having a baby before we’ve properly got to know each other is a recipe for disaster.”

He nods and swallows, but she can see he’s already knitting booties inside his head for the potential, maybe, future baby. The way he looks at her...she’s not sure how she missed it before. As far as he’s concerned, they’re a done deal: Captain America is off the market and finished looking. 

Overwhelmed, her? Surely not.

Just when she thinks they need to have a real discussion about Steve needing to set aside his idealistic fantasies for reality, the faraway look disappears. His face is split by a grin far too wholesome to be accompanied by the words he says. “But we can practice, right?”

“Sure!” Practice sounds like a lot of fun. Practice sounds like everything she signed up for. Except… “Let’s speak to Helen first. Get some tests run, just to make sure there are no, uh, surprises.”

There is no chance Darcy is leaving this up to conventional medicine. Not when her new beau is a supersoldier with enhanced  _ everything _ and they live in proximity to a god of fertility.


End file.
